A little overwhelmed… one task then another, a ticket, a project.  Still cooling down from 4.5-mile

run.  Calm, meditate…. Stay in the story, become consumed by it I say to myself.


18:09 and at home with kids.  Still engaged in some work to-do’s and conversations, tasks.  Making this my own in a way I wasn’t able to at the last company, and at Sonic a little.

Not doing NaNo this month.  Changing my writing way and conversation with myself, what materializes.  I have to.. yes, I’m getting bored with myself and the pages I produce… hear sirens somewhere in Windsor, seems not so far away. 

Distracted by kids, need quiet but don’t want it quiet at all.  Need them to study, my little professors.  Just play and have fun with your work they teach me, study, make it your own.  STOP FUCKING STRESSING….  I got it.

My relationship with my writing is changing, more sense and decided.  Stepping away from the keys for a bit, live more, write less.  Be told to write by the room, by the kids, by life and the constituents of the composition.

Too much coming at me, but I’m grateful.  On the run today, route back to the office, saw a homeless man passed out on the small strip of grass between the sidewalk and street.  And there were a couple other observations which just made me, I don’t know.. I don’t want to say thankful but reflective, acknowledging where I am in my story.  Where I live, my work… my family and how weirdly fortunate I am.